Lord, have mercy
by Tyleet85
Summary: - "Nothing has more strength than dire necessity." - Euripides. Rated T. Perhaps bordering M for descriptive violence. One-shot.


Disclaimer: TMNT® is a registered trademark of Mirage,

created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird.

I don't make any profit from this story, it's just for the love of the TMNT universe!

(It will be removed if those who have the right says so)

Equal, the Alternate Universe the characters in this story lives in, belongs to Aries-Zodiac.

**Author's notes: **Just trying to show that the Foot are only humans too. Not without feelings or humanity.

Haru is an OC I have created. Originally a RP character, but he does well in stories too, I think :) Much thanks to freakanature06 for Betaing this story! tosses lots of cookies to!

_**Lord, have mercy**_**.**

_How can we speak of right and justice if we take an innocent creature and shed its blood? _

_How can we pray to God for mercy if we ourselves have no mercy? _

_Isaac Bashevis Singer  
_

He was supposed to have been back at the Foot Tower one hour ago…

But instead he had found himself sitting on a bench in a rooftop garden. Feet slightly apart, back hunched over and elbows leaning on his knees, hands hanging loosely down between them, listening to the calming "ka-klunk" of the wide hollow bamboo pipe as it hit the deck next to the small pool every time it got filled up by rain.

It was raining.

The tails from his mask were hanging limply down his back, reflecting the mood of the one bearing it. Droplets of water dripped in a steady beat from the fabric covering his face.

And no matter how soaked his gloves were, every time he gathered his hand into a fist and squeezed… the drops landing on the stones beneath his feet were red. Like the symbol on his chest…

"Haru…" The calm and deep voice made the young man turn his head to look at the one having said his name. Without answering he turned his head back again after recognizing the other.

The man walked silently over to the bench and sat down next to Haru, in a pose very similar. But instead of looking down at the ground, he kept his head up and looking forwards.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

Not until the youngest reached up a hand and removed his mask with a sound between a frustrated sigh and a sob. Crying into an already soaked piece of fabric was making it difficult to breathe.

The blond hair stood in every direction as the mask got pulled off. Wet and frazzled. The grey eyes never leaving the stone tiles.

Reaching over a hand, the other man grabbed Haru's shoulder in a comforting grip. This caused a reaction from the blonde, and he looked over.

The elder met his eyes with his own. "It is not supposed to be easy." The tone was warm, compassionate. The one saying it knew what he spoke of.

Haru just nodded and looked back at the ground.

"And you weren't supposed to be alone when this happened…" This time the voice sounded sad, guilty.

He just nodded again.

The elder sighed and let go of the other's shoulder, going back to his original pose and looking forward.

"It is when it stops bothering you that it turns dangerous, Haru. Remember that. It is a part of who you are, but that doesn't mean you have to enjoy it…"

And he looked back at the blond man again, who kept looking down. "When you stop behaving like this after taking someone's life, then I will start worrying for you."

Haru didn't respond to that, but he lifted his head and looked forward, blinking against the tears coming from his eyes.

He sat like that, just staring ahead, a long while, the other Ninja sitting silently beside him, and waiting.

After what seemed like another hour, Haru swallowed and looked back down. –"Did you know… what he said to me right before he…died?"

The elder turned his head away from the fountain he had been studying and looked back at his student, waiting for the answer.

Haru blinked against the tears and watched them fall down on his gloves. The fingers covered in the dead man's blood.

The young Foot Ninja felt like he could never touch another knife again, for the rest of his life. The sickening feeling of the blade sinking far too easily into the man's chest, cutting through skin and bones like it was butter… The blood gushing violently, telling of main arteries having been severed… The warmth of it seeping through the fabric of Haru's gloves.

A brutal kill.

And the victim hadn't even directly deserved it. He had just been one of the main target's henchmen.

The young man formed his lips around the well-known but foreign words, whispering them. As if passing on an important message not meant for everyone.

"Kyrie Eleison…"


End file.
